


A Very Wayward Christmas

by DragonGirl420



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 05:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl420/pseuds/DragonGirl420
Summary: Friends for twenty-something years, Dean surprises (Y/N) when she finally moves back to Kansas after spending years away from home.





	A Very Wayward Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kazosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazosa/gifts).



> Prompt: “You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”

“I’m done. I am so damn done,” you sighed and fell back onto the sofa, looking around the vast space and feeling satisfied with your hard work. All the essential boxes were inside from the truck, and somehow even the furniture was in place. It wasn’t done, there was a lot of unpacking still to do, but you felt good about the work you put in that day. Your body, however, was screaming.

A week straight of packing, moving halfway across the country during winter weather, then getting it all in the new loft had taken its toll. Even though you wouldn’t change it for the world, it was time to rest. You kicked off your sneakers and put your feet up on the coffee table.

Leaning your head back, you smiled to yourself as you gazed up at the ceiling of your new loft and at the exposed brick and pipes above. It was your favorite thing about the place until you realized the east wall was partially made of windows and had a built-in window seat. Not to mention the crazy amount of counter space and all brand-new appliances in the loft’s kitchen. Moving here had been a gamble, both with your work for the gallery and the proximity to a certain guy. But hopefully, it would all pay off.

Tomorrow was supposed to be not only your housewarming party but an excuse to celebrate Christmas with your entire extended family. Dean and Sam were coming up from the bunker, Jody and Donna planned on making the trek in from South Dakota with Bobby. More were invited, but they were the faces you wanted to see the most. Moving around as much as you had, you’d missed the old gang and wanted nothing more than to party and be merry with them. Too bad the weather didn’t want to cooperate.

The wind was whipping around outside, as the snow really started to come down creating drifts against the windows almost immediately. As you cursed Mother Nature for putting the kibosh on the party that you were so looking forward to; especially seeing Dean again. Just as you rested your head back on the couch, a deep yawn came on and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Within minutes, you were fast asleep.

A few hours later, just as you were hovering at that point between sleep and deep sleep, you felt the weight of a warm hand rest upon your thigh, gently shaking it back and forth. Your eyes fluttered open and Dean was sitting next to you, a soft smile hovering on his lips. Trying to focus, at first, you thought it was a dream.

“Hey there sleepy,” he said in a rough whisper. “Sorry, I’m so late.”

You took a moment to try and get your bearings, pushing yourself back up to sitting on the couch. No lights were on, and if not for the moonlight streaming through the windows, it would have been pitch black in there.

Your body stiffened the moment you tried to sit up more. If you thought your body was sore earlier, that was nothing compared to the near rigor mortis that set in and locked up every muscle from your neck to your toes. Every movement was difficult, your neck and shoulders taking the brunt of discomfort. Dean noticed your uneasiness and helped you sit up a little straighter.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just really sore. Guess I fell asleep in a funky position, plus the move…” you shrugged and fought back the urge to wince at the pain it caused.

“Well I got here just in time then,” he said, and gently patted your knee in reassurance.

“Wait, how did you? I mean the weather, and it being Christmas Eve… I didn’t think anyone was coming!”

With Dean’s help, you were able to get up off the couch to get a better view of the current conditions. The snow was coming down in thick white sheets creating a winter wonderland outside the big bay windows.

“Come on,” he said, drawing out the last word and shrugged his whole face in playful contempt. “You think a little snow’s gonna stop me?”

“No, I guess not,” you smiled, your body tingling with excitement regardless of its current state of discomfort.

“Here. Sit back down, relax. Have you eaten?”

You waved Dean off when he offered to help you sit back down. “No, no, I’m fine,” you started, then realized, there was no food in the house yet. “Food, crap! No, I have no food. I had planned to run out to grab something, but I guess I fell asleep.”

“Good thing I’m a damn boy scout,” he mumbled, his cocky tone normally would cause you to roll your eyes, but you were just so damn happy to see him, you didn’t care.

Dean walked into the kitchen area and began flipping switches, illuminating the loft in random places. As he was grabbing an array of plastic bags from the counter, he looked around the space and let out a long whistle as he did so.

“The place has your approval?” you asked teasingly.

“And then some. Much better than that dump you had in Cali. This. This is way better. Definitely suits you more.”

His smile lingered as he gazed at you thoughtfully before pulling himself back and diving into the plastic bags. “I wasn’t sure what you’d have and there wasn’t much open along the way, so I grabbed what I could. Figured we could whip this up into a meal of some kind. Besides, I am the King of Convenience Store cuisine, you know.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” you mused.

You couldn’t help but laugh as a waterfall of memories flashed through your mind, back to your early days of hunting with Dean. How many meals the two of you ate in the front seat of the car, discussing cases, or how his dad and your uncle were making your lives miserable by dragging you all over the country, never giving either of you any freedom…

“… is that alright?” Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “(Y/N), hey, you with me?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where’d you go? You looked a million miles away.”

“Just, uh… nowhere. Sorry. What did you ask me?”

“If this was alright?” he motioned to the wide variety of snack cakes, beef jerky, spread cheeses, crackers and individually wrapped pie slices among other things, onto the counter. “A Christmas feast it is not, but I guarantee it’ll go great with these.” He smiled as he pulled two six packs of beer out of the other bag and added them to his haul.

You gave him a curious look that said, ‘I’m sorry do you not know me?’. But he did. Dean had known you since you were both about ten years old, and he probably knew you better than anyone else on the planet. From the moment John Winchester and his boys showed up on the steps of your Uncle Jim’s church and took them in, you and Dean had become fast friends and stayed that way for all these years.

He rolled his eyes and went back into the bag, pulling out a small bottle of your favorite rum. “You think I’d forget?”

“I dunno. Its been a while since we hung out. I thought maybe you’d mixed me up with one of the women from your harem.”

Dean laughed and popped the top on a bottle of beer. “Yeah, ok. Like I could ever confuse you for anyone else…ever”

You knew him, too. There was an awkward moment of silence where his eyes lingered on you as he absently took a swig from his bottle. The expression he wore was one you knew well, and it meant something that on his mind was close to spilling from his lips, and you wanted to give him the time to say it. But Dean being Dean, didn’t.

“I’d take this over a fancy meal any day, Winchester,” you said and gave him a playful wink, trying to divert the slight bit of tension. “However, I think I may want to take a shower and change first. If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, go right ahead. I’m going to chef this up into something edible and we’ll eat when you’re out of the shower.”

You left him behind in the kitchen and headed to the only private room in the loft to shower and change. It took longer than you had wanted, considering how stiff your arms and legs felt. By the time you returned to the kitchen, Dean had the gas station feast spread out, and a small Christmas tree decorated with air fresheners and mini lights on the coffee table by the couch.

He’d even gone outside and found the stash of firewood hidden under the tarp near the garage and got a fire burning in the hanging fireplace. It was the first time you’d seen it all lit up, and you fell in love with your new place all over again. And maybe, just a little bit in love with Dean, too.

“Whatcha think? Not too bad, right?” Dean asked, his arms spread out wide and large, satisfied grin on his face.

“Dean, its… it’s perfect. Where did you find that tree?” you asked, laughing but also feeling overwhelmed with what he had done.

“Actually, at one of the gas stations. Guy had it on the counter with the lights, asked him how much. We negotiated, and now you have a fake tree, with fake trees on it.”

“Well, I love it. It’s absolutely perfect! I didn’t think I would get to put up a tree this year. Much less have anyone here to celebrate with. With the move and the weather—having to cancel the party—” you trailed off, feeling a bit melancholy at the thought of spending Christmas alone.

“Come on, Y/N,” Dean said softly, as he gently grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him, “ ** _you didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?_** ”

Dean was smiling, but the energy he was emitting was something more than just, happy. His features softened, and the smile faded. You swallowed hard, suddenly nervous to be so close to him. But that was what you had wanted—hell, you moved almost two thousand miles just to be closer to him. However, now that he was right there, and doing the things he was doing, you felt unsure of how to react.

“So… food?” you said trying to feel less awkward and walked over to the counter.

Dean handed you a plate. “Dig in.”

Once the dinner was done and you were feeling the buzz of the rum, you got up and began rummaging through the boxes. Dean followed, slowly walking over to where you were and watched with great curiosity until you came back with your treasure, a small Jukebox blue tooth speaker.

“Can’t have a Christmas party, without Christmas music,” you teased and bit your lower lip in excitement.

“Dear Lord,” he moaned and rubbed a hand over his face, “you’re gonna torture me, aren’t you? And after this delicious meal, I made you…”

His face was twisted in fake offense and you waved him off. “Please, I know you better than anyone, you secretly love it.”

“You think so, huh?” Dean walked over and plucked your phone out of your hand just as you connected it to the Bluetooth. He purposely held it out of your reach while he scrolled the music app looking for a song to play. “Alright, you think you know me, what song am I gonna play?”

You raised a brow at him and stopped trying to get your phone back. Grabbing your rum and Coke off the counter, you sipped at it and thought about what he may choose.

“Rocking Around the Christmas Tree… Specifically, Brenda Lee’s version,” you replied with a confident tone. He rolled his eyes and hit play on the phone, and that was exactly what came through the speaker.

Taking the phone from his hand with no resistance, he shook his head in defeat. Placing it on the counter, you turned back to him, grabbed his hand and forced him to dance with you. Fred Astaire, he was not, but the recollection of memories stirred up by dancing to the holiday tune brought more joy into the moment than anything else could have.

You stumbled over each other’s feet more often than not, but when it was over you were laughing together, holding on to each other’s arms and lingering well after the song was done.

“Do you, uh… do you remember that time when we all ended up at Bobby’s for Christmas? I guess we were maybe… twelve, thirteen? You had brought that bottle from Pastor Jim’s stash of rum and we spiked our eggnog?”

“Oh wow, I haven’t thought about that in years!”

“I think about it a lot,” he said, his expression told you he was a million miles away and lost in the memory.

The rum was making you brave. “Why? I mean, why is that the time you remember a lot? I think we just got super sick and puked for hours. Wasn’t it?”

Dean nodded. “Yep. We got really sick, and my dad of all people found us, on our knees in the garage crying from all the rum we drank.”

“You mean the two shots apiece?”

“Yeah, well, it did the job. What I remember most is my dad ripping into me something fierce because he assumed it was my doing. But you didn’t let that fly. You stood right up and told him you brought it. Even lied and said you spiked my drink without telling me.”

“Wow, I don’t remember that part,” you mused, trying to think back on that long-forgotten night.”

“I remember it because it’s the first time anyone ever really stood up for me. Especially against him. Sam tried a few times when we got older, but back then, you were my hero.”

“Glad I could be of service,” you teased and feigned a slight bow and turned back to the bar to reclaim your drink.

“Oh, hey… I got you a present. Well, two presents, actually. Hold on.”

He darted quickly through the garage entrance and out to his car. Back a moment later, he had an oversized brown paper bag and was grinning like he was the one about to open a present.

He handed you the bag, and the grin faded rather quickly. Leaving you with an anxious excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Here. Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

The bag was heavier than you thought it would be. Giving him a suspicious look, he shooed you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to open it. You laid it on the table and sat down before sliding out the first gift. It was wrapped in newspaper with a red bow on top. It was hard to feel what was inside due to the generous amount of newspaper Dean used.

“Fancy,” you said, holding it up.

“Hey, now… there’s a very festive bow on top. Open it.”

You got the paper off and felt slightly confused at what you were seeing. It was a license plate from South Dakota and its significance was lost to you at first, but only for a moment.

“Is this from the Nova?” you asked in breathless excitement. “THE Nova?!”

He was nodding and again, grinning like a child. “The very one. Last time I was out at Bobby’s, I found her way out in the back lot. Couldn’t believe he kept it. So, I took a few things I found laying around in her. Thought maybe you’d like to hang that in here somewhere.”

“Dean… I—I don’t know what to say. This is awesome, thank you!” You resisted throwing your arms around his neck to hug him because there was still one more present to open.

“Open the next one,” he said and grabbed it off the table, shoving it into your hands eagerly.

“Ok, ok… let’s see…” you mumbled as you removed the paper, slower this time, just because you knew how excited me was and that it would drive him a little crazy.

Once the paper was removed enough to reveal the gift, Dean sat on the edge of the couch, and instead of watching you remove the paper, he watched your expression instead.

Beneath the Sunday Times newspaper, there was a dark wood frame that contained an old map of the United States. It was ripped at all four edges and focused on a small portion of the central US with a marker-drawn heart over Kansas. The moment you saw it, the memory was instantly present. No paused needed to remember this map.

“Do you remember that?” he asked.

You nodded and took a moment to catch your breath. “I do…”

_Seventeen years old, you and Dean spent a summer together at Bobby’s salvage yard. You had just started experimenting with metal sculptures and welding. Jim had sent you to Bobby’s to learn how to properly use the tools and pillage the yard for scrap metal. Dean was working off some punishment inflicted by John and had been ordered to be Bobby’s gopher while he and Sam dealt with some hunt out on the beaches of the East Coast._

_That was the summer that Bobby towed in a 1970 Nova. It was beaten up badly, very little hope for any resurrection. But Dean had other ideas and begged Bobby to let him try. So, he did, and you helped. Together you and Dean brought a beautiful car back to life with nothing but spare parts and sheer determination._

_One day you were sitting in it, waiting for him to meet you. Poking around, you found the map in the glove compartment. Bored while waiting for him, you pulled it out and saw it was already open to Dean’s home state. Daydreaming about him, you absently had doodled the heart near his hometown of Lawrence._

_By then, you’d already fallen a little in love with him. You hadn’t wanted to admit it, but you were falling for a guy you had no business falling for; your best friend and a fellow hunter… an all-around dangerous choice._

 

“This was…” you started, and that’s when you noticed the second heart. This one was drawn around Lebanon, the town you had recently settled in. but couldn’t find the words to continue. You looked up at him in disbelief

“In the glove compartment. I found it all folded up, sorta shoved in there,” he trailed off and met your gaze. “I remember that summer. I never told you I knew, but I did.”

“Right. I—uh,” you chuckled nervously, “I had a crush on you that summer. I was sitting in the car, and the map was there. I just started doodling…”

“When I found it again, the car, all of it came back and it made me remember.”

“Remember what, Dean?”

“I had a pretty big crush on you, too. My dad would’ve skinned me alive if I made a move on Pastor Jim’s niece. So, I kept it above board, but not cause I wanted to.”

Your finger brushed against the glass, right over the Lebanon heart. “You added this?”

“Yeah. You coming to stay here, closer to home… I know you’ve been out of the business a while, and I’d never try to pull you back in even though at one point we made a hell of a team. But having you close to home again feels really good, (Y/N).”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say,” you whispered because the emotion rising in your throat wouldn’t allow for anything more.

The fireplace crackled in the silence between songs on the speaker. A moment later, a new song started to play, one you also knew well. The keys of a piano started playing [ _Please Come Home For Christmas_  by the Eagles](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DlFWe2aVrIbo&t=OWNkYzdkYmQ3YzhiMzM1NWI3ZTcxNTM2NDMwYmQzMDU4MmVlMTU4ZiwxbHlWVEpXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3AnhKxeIEmJIrTLZjcVkg3iQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fcoffee-obsessed-writer.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181373753607%2Fa-very-wayward-christmas&m=0). Dean removed the frame picture from your hands and put it aside. He took your hand and walked you towards the middle of the room to dance with him.

Hesitantly, his arm snaked around your waist, the other clutched your hand against his chest. You rested your cheek against him and that’s when his arm pulled you in and negating any space left between your bodies. Dean rested his head against yours and swayed you slowly around the room for the entire length of the song.

Towards the end, he lifted your chin up towards his face. He wasn’t smiling, but his features were soft and yet still somehow intense. Cupping your cheek, he bent down and kissed you, delicately. At first, just the brush of his lips against yours, as if he needed to do a test touch to make sure he wouldn’t be electrocuted. Yet, that’s exactly what happened. The spark was undeniable. Years of waiting and wondering now gone because he knew in that first kiss, as did you, this has been destined to happen.

Dean’s lips were softer than you’d imagined, and you had imagined then quite a bit over the years. He kissed you with a controlled kind of passion, almost challenging you to take it a step farther. You wanted him, but you also knew that the rum-affect and the gifts he gave you were emotional triggers and knew better. Your first time with him wouldn’t be a drunken Christmas escapade. As much as it killed you, you hesitantly pulled away, immediately regretting it as soon as you did.

Unable to explain, it was as if he already knew. There was a hint of a smile playing at the lips you’d just been kissing; a smile you knew all too well from watching him over the years.

“What? What are you up to Dean Winchester?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him curiously, but playfully.

“Nothing… I can’t believe it took twenty something years, a fifth of rum and some old map to finally get you to kiss me.”

You smacked his chest and he feigned being hurt. “You’re an ass.”

“And you are beautiful. I’ve always wanted to tell you that, (Y/N).”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not. I’ve only had a couple of beers. I wouldn’t chance getting sloppy, not tonight.”

“Why not tonight?”

“Because I came here not only to spend Christmas with you but to finally tell you—” he paused abruptly and nervously chuckled. His tongue darted out over his lips, making them glisten in the light of the fireplace. It was hard to take your eyes from them, but you finally caught his gaze and he continued, “—that I’ve been in love with you since I was ten years old.”

A lump formed in your throat that rendered you speechless. So much had happened in the last two days, that your mind was spilling, your heart was pounding and the weakness due to exhaustion in your knees finally won out. Had his arms not been around you, you’d easily have hit the floor.

“(Y/N)? You alright? Can you say—”

“I love you, too, Dean. Maybe not since we met, but that summer we rebuilt the Nova, I fell in love with you and have been ever since.”

His face morphed into a smile that radiated so brightly, it could have lit up the whole room. He bent down slightly, and lifted you by the midriff, up into an embrace that you would never forget. Burying his face into your neck, he held onto you tightly and took in a deep breath of your shampoo.

When he finally put you down, you gazed up at him and realized exactly what it was that you wanted at that moment. Yes, you wanted  _him_ , badly, in fact, but there was something that you had dreamed of doing with him in the worst way. Now, you had your chance.

Taking his hand, you walked him over to where you had put the mattress and box spring of your bed on the floor. It was already made up with the pillows and blankets you used, and from its spot in the loft, giving you a stunning view of the snow softly falling outside.

“I thought maybe you could sleep here with me, instead of the couch. Maybe we could just curl up, watch the snow fall…?”

“That sounds perfect,” he agreed and removed his jeans and flannel, leaving him in nothing but a t-shirt and his boxers.  

Slipping beneath the covers, Dean followed suit and gathered you into his side. Your arm was draped over his chest, your head rested in the crook of his shoulder. You chatted lazily in between long, tender kisses, and let the Christmas music played in the background as Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day. Finally, sleep was inevitable and as you drifted off, you asked him one last question.

“Why now, Dean? Why confess all this now?”

He shrugged, his eyes half closed with sleep. “I guess I realized that I just like me better when I’m with you.”

* * *

 

Soft streams of light from a cold winter’s morning covered the sheets and pillows of the bed, eventually causing Dean and (Y/N) to wake from sleep. Still laying close to each other, he only had to turn his head to see her still groggy from slumber. The way the light was cast across her features made her look like an angel; the good kind, not the dicks he normally dealt with. Just watching her, knowing she loved him back, filled Dean with the kind of hope that was in short supply these days. Just needing to touch her, he turned on his side and gently stroked the top of her hair, relieved that this time she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. She was there, and she was real. Best of all… she loved him, too.

(Y/N) began to stir, and the moment she saw Dean’s face a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re still here,” she mused and slowly pushed herself up on one elbow, so she was slightly hovering over him.

“Where else would I be?” he laughed.

“I don’t know, but I’ve woken up imaging you there so many times, to have it actually happen…”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” he teased and bit his lip with a chuckle when she playfully admonished him with a light punch to the arm.

Dean sat up and pushed her back down so now it was he who was hovering. He bent down to kiss her, no teasing or politeness this time. She responded in kind and just as Dean was working up the nerve to explore her properly, a loud, booming knock came from the loft’s industrial metal door.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asked, confused yet amused by the timing of the interruption.

“No, I but I was expecting you either, remember? Weather and all that.”

“I want to be the gentleman, here, and tell you to stay where its warm, but I got an issue and maybe you could…” he snorted an uncomfortable laugh. He realized she could feel the issue he had starting to develop against her leg and was incredibly disappointed that it would have to wait.

“Of course,” she said and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “You, uh… put that away for now, but this isn’t over.”

“Good God I hope not…” he mused wistfully as he watched her slip out of the bed. “Promise?!”

“Cross my heart!” she called back as she shook her hips teasingly while walking away.

* * *

 

Once your slippers were on and you threw a small blanket over your shoulders to block out the chill, you finally made your way to the door just as the knock came again.

The huge, grinning faces of Bobby, Jody, Donna, and Sam were standing on the other side holding up bags and boxes of all sorts of supplies.

“Surprise!” Donna and Jody screeched, as Bobby and Sam rolled their eyes in jest.

“Well don’t make the girl go deaf, Jody,” Bobby groaned and pushed past them. “Let me have a look atcha, girl! Been way too long!”

Bobby dropped the bags and pulled you into a bear hug.

“What are you guys doing here?! With the weather and all… I figured I wouldn’t see you until next week!”

“Aw, come on now, (Y/N) do you honestly think we’d let you celebrate your first Christmas here in how many years… alone?” Jody admonished, “no way a little snow would stop us.”

Bobby released you, and as you went about greeting the rest of them, Dean finally emerged from behind the privacy screen of your bedroom, dressed back in his jeans and flannel, but looked disheveled still from sleep.

“Dean? I thought were couldn’t come?” Sam asked curiously just as he released you from a hug.

“I, uh… wanted to get in sorta early,” he shrugged and smirked, but nervously.

“You knew they were coming?” you asked him.

“I did. I told you, no way you were going to be alone this year. Not when you’re finally back home.”

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Donna started and paused to take a look around the loft. “Nice digs!”

“Planning to stay a while this time?” Bobby asked, hope alive in his eyes. “It’s a nice thought having you within a couple hundred miles instead of a couple thousand.”

You caught Dean’s gaze, and in it, you saw the answer you needed. Everyone watched with wide eyes as you made your way back to him, slipped an arm around his waist and leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips. Dean kissed you back, despite the elated grins of Donna and Jody and shocked expressions of Bobby and Sam.

“Why would I go anywhere when everything I need or want, is right here,” you said, not taking your eyes from him.

His eyes crinkled into a satisfied, soft grin before Dean kissed you again and then noticed the eggnog poking out of one of the bags Jody brought in. He grabbed it and went into the kitchen grabbing the needed number of cups. Pouring a half cup for everyone, he passed them out before raising his into the air.

“Its really, pretty damn great having everyone under one roof, and doing something the normals out there get to do all the time. So, Merry Christmas, and, uh… I love you guys.”

“Here! Here!” Donna cheered and downed her eggnog quickly. “Oof, that’s good. Needs a bite though!” She retrieved the other gallon of eggnog and rum from the other bag. “Good thing we came prepared!”

Bobby slipped into the story of John finding you and Dean drunk from the eggnog, but his take was much funnier to everyone else in the room. You took a step back and watched your family move about your new loft and felt a swell of love for all these people. Dean came up from behind you and left a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispered in your ear.

You turned around to see him and reached up to touch his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Dean. Thank you, having everyone here… it’s perfect. I don’t know how to thank you, really.”

He animatedly considered your words and pursed his lips together. “Ooohhh, I’m sure I can think of something,” he teased and wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m sure you can. Just remember to bring the mistletoe, alright? So I hang it in all the places I wanna kiss you later,” you teased and gave him a little wink.

His face registered a happy sort of surprise and snickered nervously as you walked away from him and back into the kitchen where the rest of the family was making Merry and sharing memories.


End file.
